


Sniff/Piss, Or: One Step Up From Dogs

by relevant_elephant



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relevant_elephant/pseuds/relevant_elephant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock really is just an animal inside. A possesive one at that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sniff/Piss, Or: One Step Up From Dogs

“He sniffed you.”

 

“He did not _sniff_ me, Spock!”

 

“Indeed he did. It was inappropriate and as such, you should not have encouraged him.”

 

Jim faltered in his step, turning quickly to stare incredulously at Spock. At least, that is Spock’s interpretation of the look on his captain’s face. Admittedly, he was still not as well-versed in the illogical acts of humans as he should be when serving with well over 400 of them. It did make interacting with them tenser and more frustrating, to say the least. He always declined to say the most, especially when it came to Jim.

 

His captain released an exasperated sigh, drawing Spock’s full attention back to the current matter in time for Spock to see him turn on his heel and stride even faster out into the _Enterprise_ _’s_ walkways. When they were alone, halls cleared of gossipy ensigns and nosy bridge officers, Jim turned and placed himself in front of Spock, walking backwards as he continued, “Besides, what if he **had** sniffed me? Maybe I smell.”

 

A quick curious look passed over the captain’s face and then he lifted his arm and took a long whiff. Seemingly not encountering any strange scents, he turned back to Spock, arm stretched out toward his First, and asked sheepishly, “ _Do_ I smell?”

 

Spock raised one eyebrow and leaned farther back from his captain, before commenting, “Captain, there are a multitude of ways Vulcans ascertain just whom would make them a compatible mate and _sniffing_ is one of them.” 

 

James T. Kirk is not known for his silences. He is loud, he is boisterous, and he is proud of such a fact. Therefore, the stillness that engulfed the two as Kirk slowed to a halt, forcing Spock to one as well or face slamming into the human, was foreboding. If Spock were susceptible to such emotional displays, he would have shivered at the unnatural calm that had settled over his captain.

 

“Commander, your job is to help with the smooth running of my ship, not meddle in the running of my love life.” He paused, waited for his words to penetrate Spock’s mind, and then continued, “Is there some reason you’re so concerned.”

 

Spock may not have been quite so well-versed in human tones, but as First Officer, he certainly recognized a command couched within a question. At this time, or any other time, Spock did not wish to divulge his reasoning. Indeed, he did not know his own reasoning. He watched as slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Kirk leaned back against the corridor wall, his arms crossing and his affable disposition evaporating, only to be replaced with cold indifference. Spock refused to acknowledge that he wished the blinding smile and sparkling eyes back. That was illogical. There was no productive reason for Spock to desire such expressions. He had made this decision one month into the mission, several days after he had severed relations with Lieutenant Uhura. Never mind that Jim was the reason Spock had aborted the relationship with Nyota.      

 

Jim leveled a challenging look into Spock’s eyes as he again started walking backward down the corridor, his own eyes shards of vicious ice as the Captain stared down his Commander. Spock’s mind trembled with defiance, but it lasted only briefly before his logic forced itself back into the forefront of his mind and enforced calm. As much as it _not_ irked him, Jim was correct. The First Officer had no dictation rights to the Captain’s love life, but it also appeared as if that same rule applied to _Spock_ with _Jim_.

 

Spock nodded tightly, his lips compressed and his face more stoic than he had ever had it before. Jim held his look for a moment longer, somehow navigating the ship’s corridors without bumping or tripping into anything. It was illogical, how talented this man was in the most useless of things. Finally, the captain whirled around and continued on walking, as if he had never been in such an awkward position with his First. Spock irrationally found that disconcerting. And their conversation did _not_ mean that Spock would not endeavor to assign Senva to parts of the project that were quite far away from where the captain would be.

 

Spock jerked his head once, decisively, and followed Jim around the corner when his captain beckoned him with a suspicious squinty-eyed look. Spock gazed back innocently. Really, he was merely keeping the Vulcan away from his captain for the captain’s own good. That was all, no devious purposes behind his plan. After all, Vulcans were incapable of nefariousness.

 

||

 

Unfortunately, Spock had not anticipated his captain’s… attraction to individuals of Vulcanoid descent. It was the only word that could describe how Jim gravitated towards Spock’s own kind. When the mission first started and Jim was officially captain, Spock thought it merely a quirk of Jim’s, or an interest imbedded into his mind by Elder Spock, but clearly Spock did not know his captain as he thought he did.

 

It was a logical assumption he should have not even had to state, this being only their third month into their five year mission, however Spock had come to… covet the captain. Not for any previously rebutted reasons, of course. Merely for that fact that Spock had never had such a friend as Jim and sharing the attention did not, as his mother used to say, sit well with him. Spock ignored the small voice in his head that admonished him that lying to oneself was just as bad, if not worse, than lying to another.  

 

As such, he did not like said captain foiling his well-made plans on keeping Senva away from Jim. But like the pull that drew the opposing poles of two magnets together, Jim found Senva even when he was several decks below where Jim should have been. Watching Senva interact with his captain, Spock found himself denting the metal control panel he had been leaning over, fingers depressing the console to a barely usable state.

 

Just as Spock was building up a head of ‘ _logical’, the-captain-cannot-focus-on-his-duties-when-being-distracted-by-such-shamefully-emotional-groping_ steam, Senva glanced his direction, hand settling onto the captain’s right arm and a definite possessive gleam in his eye.

 

And that is how, why, when, and where Spock snapped. He threw aside all logical reasons why he should not be attracted to, even _love_ the captain (incapable of repopulating the Vulcan species, loud, brash, exciting, handsome). He went into his mind’s library, pulled out the bound book of Reasons Why Spock and Jim Could Not Be, and unceremoniously threw it in to a mental fire. He started his way to the pair across the science lab and began composing a letter to his father detailing exactly why he would not be receiving any grandchildren, he-

 

“Pardon me, Captain, but I have some schematics, _over at my console_ , that I wish you to peruse.”

 

Jim’s head shot up, like he’d not even heard Spock approach, and an annoyed rumble started low in Spock’s belly. Jim had never not been aware of Spock’s presence before, not until this interloper had stepped foot in Spock’s territory. Jim’s eyes widened, Senva’s features tightened, and Spock came to the startling conclusion that he had released the growl out loud.

 

He did not care. He did not even care when Jim looked pointedly at the arm not being molested by Senva only to see the Spock was gripping it in a tight embrace. He did not care when Jim opened his mouth, eyes fiery, no doubt ready to rebuke his First Officer, when Spock crowded into Jim’s personal space, rubbing his chest against the closest arm and part of his captain’s chest. He most certainly did not care when he circled Jim, slamming into Senva’s arm to detach the unwanted hand from his captain’s person, and herding Jim away from the other Vulcan. A final growl in Senva’s direction completed Spock’s show of dominance and before either Jim or Senva could comment, Spock had Jim out of the lab and was dragging him unceremoniously down the hall.

 

They didn’t get far when Jim yanked, leaning all his body weight backwards and twisting acrobatically, to escape from Spock’s hold. It worked entirely too well, sending Spock careening into the corridor wall and Jim sprawling onto the floor. Spock merely straightened after contact, gripping the bottom of his shirt and jerking it back down into place, before he turned swiftly on his heel and stared at Jim, eyebrow raised.

 

A look of embarrassed fury encased Jim’s face, his skin flushed red. He was still on the floor, reclining against the wall with legs bent in a curiously aggressive manner. When he spoke, his words were biting.

 

“Don’t give me that tone of eyebrow, Commander.” That said, Jim shot himself up, seemingly without any effort at all. He ambushed Spock, invading his personal space and speaking from less than an inch away from Spock’s face.

 

“What the hell?! You couldn’t have made your point any clearer if you had… pissed all over me!” Jim’s hands gestured wildly, swirling in a circle around his own body, and Spock had to lean backwards or face being smacked in the cheek.

 

Spock stayed silent, pondering the best course of action. He observed Jim, noting the flaring nostrils and the heavy breathing, the closed off eyes and the combative stance. It was surprisingly easy to ascertain that Jim would not be conducive to explanations of a linguistic sort and so the obvious conclusion to inform Jim that his mind, body, and heart belonged to Spock was through physicality.

 

Decision made, Spock felt no qualms about grabbing Jim around the waist, tossing him over his shoulder in what humans referred to as the fireman carry, and strode down the hall to his quarters, blithely ignoring his shouts of protest. Once they were behind the hydraulically closing doors, Spock covered the ground to his bed and tossed Jim onto it. A squawk flew from his mouth as he bounced on the mattress a few times, coming to settle against the headboard. His vibrant blue eyes stared in a stupor at Spock, clearly incapable of connecting the straight-laced and respectful Spock with the wildly possessive object now in front of him. Spock found himself illogically pleased at this.

 

Taking advantage of Jim’s momentary speechlessness, Spock forewent smoothness in favor of swiftly and gracelessly stripping off his clothes, like the Whirldevil storms from the desert world Radius Prime. Once he was nude, he turned his attention to Jim’s clothes, having no obstacles from the still stunned human as Spock quickly disrobed him.

 

Once they were both nude, Spock settled himself on the bed, pressing closely to Jim’s side. The juxtaposition of their temperatures excited Spock beyond all knowing, his molten heat to Jim’s cool tundra. As Spock shifted, his chest rubbed against Jim’s side and Jim moaned lowly, his eyes falling closed as his head tipped back, baring his throat for Spock.

 

Spock took the invitation, swooping down and latching viciously onto Jim’s neck at the juncture between it and the shoulder, sucking and biting. Jim latched on to Spock’s forearms, fingernails biting into the firm muscle and drawing tiny beads of jade blood, his back arching in pleasure.

 

Spock released an appreciative groan as he felt Jim’s hard, wet tipped penis drag across his thigh, leaving a line of translucent pre-ejaculate along Spock’s skin. As they adjusted, the stirred air ghosted over the damp spot, raising goose bumps along Spock’s skin. Spock loomed over Jim, eyes lust blown as Jim spread his legs eagerly, pants falling obscenely from his pouty, pink lips.

 

He was an extremely aesthetically pleasing vision, wanton and pliant, pink skin glowing faintly in the dim lighting. Spock had planned longer foreplay, but Jim was thrusting against Spock desperately, keening and begging, “Now, now!” And Spock decided he couldn’t wait anymore, either. He reached in his side cabinet and pulled out the incense oil, cinnamon and vanilla scented, and poured a generous amount onto his fingers. He dropped the bottle to the bed and reach for Jim’s anus. The wring of muscle was contracting impatiently and as Spock touched his first finger to the delicate skin there, Jim jerked and released a wail.

 

His first finger slid in slowly, easing his captain open and pumping in and out, searching for that gland he had read about.

 

“Ah!” Jim’s cry was accompanied by the arching of his back and his gluttius maximus bearing down onto Spock’s finger. Satisfied he’s found the right bundle of nerves, Spock gently eased the second finger in to the hit. The wring stretched easily, as if Jim was used to such use of his anus and Spock cut that thought off before he could become even more aggravated. As he scissored his fingers in and out, Jim thrashed wildly, grunts and moans and barely intelligible words fallings like supplications from his mouth.

 

Impatient, and deciding that for this time, Jim was at the least accessible, Spock removed his fingers and reached for the bottle again. Jim whined in protest, reaching blindly for Spock’s fingers, only to have his hands quickly immobilized and a low growl disguised as words, “Keep your hands above your head. You do not move them until I say.”

 

Jim’s eyes widened and his breathing came faster, then he nodded swiftly. Spock, secure that Jim would listen, released his wrists and proceeded to massage the incense oil into the skin of his penis, covering it thickly so that the liquid ran down his genitalia to his abdomen and dripped in globs onto the bed. Hopefully that would be enough to ease the way nicely. Done, Spock reached for Jim’s legs and wrenched them as far apart as they could go, slipped in between his captain’s thighs and slid home.

 

Jim released a scream, half in pleasure and half in pain and Spock stilled, waiting for Jim to adjust to his girth. Spock as well, needed the reprieve, his eyes almost rolling in his sockets as Jim’s anus squeezed him like a vice. All too soon and not soon enough, Jim started thrusting back, encouraging Spock to move as well. He did so, pulling out almost completely and then slamming back in, hard, claiming. Jim slid up the bed, his arms tightening on the headboard to keep himself in place.

 

Spock repeated the action a few more times, Jim screeching like Janara IV Banshee Monkey with every thrust. Sweat gathered along Spock’s spine, sliding down his sides and landing onto Jim’s stomach. The droplets of Spock’s own body branded Jim as intensely as Spock’s penis branded him, and Spock quickened faster than anticipated. He attempted to hold it back but the spasming muscles were too much to resist. Spock grabbed Jim’s legs and hoisted them onto his shoulders, opening Jim up for deeper penetration.

 

Breath coming faster than ever, Spock sped up his thrusts, his thighs and testicles slapping loudly and satisfyingly against Jim’s thighs. It only took a few more thrusts, Spock releasing deep-throated groans with each full connection and Jim repeating Spock’s name like a mantra, before Spock sensed his and Jim’s imminent release. He reached one hand up to Jim’s meld points, pausing only long enough to receive Jim’s nod of assent, and then latched on, diving deeply into Jim’s mind. He was aware of a brief sense of crystal cool blue before they both climaxed at the same time, their pleasure swirling around and around through the circular connection, dizzying and exciting and new. The link flared, twisting between the tow minds before fading into invisibility.

 

Out of breath and out of his mind, Spock collapsed on top of Jim, their sweaty bodies heaving together. Jim’s arms wrapped around Spock as his captain pressed their foreheads together. Eyes connected and the newly minted bond between them hummed in delight.

 

No questions needed to be asked and the only acknowledgment between them, before sleep overcame them, was Jim releasing a breathy, “Oh. Okay.”

 

For the first time in ever, Spock fell asleep with a smile on his face.   


End file.
